


Valhöll

by Kikimay



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Character Death, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Incest, King Thor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:23:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2049780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikimay/pseuds/Kikimay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is finally free after serving his time in prison and Thor is king of Asgard. They are back together again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Tears of the Gods

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Valhöll](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025719) by [Kiki (Kikimay)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikimay/pseuds/Kiki). 



> I wrote this fic a couple of years ago, after the movie The Avengers. I finally decided to translate it in English. I hope I didn't made huge mistakes. The fic is unbetaed. Any suggestion is welcome.

  
  
  
  
The Asgardian prison cells were white. Shady and bare. Empty. When the prisoner was in need of something – to urinate, to vomit or sleep – a special mechanism, hidden behind the polished floor, was activated and instantly the furniture and the drinking and food supplies were there. For the rest of the time, the prisoners’ rooms were a abyss of pure nothing, a constant vacuum in the mind of the condemned.  
  
Loki always hated the emptiness.  
  
As prince of Asgard, his rooms were constantly full of books, mirrors and magic tools of all kinds. Loki loved to fill the space. He loved Thor, so full of anger and passion and ambition.  
  
He loved Thor.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“My lord, do you want to follow us?” the attendant asked, once inside the prison.  
  
Thor nodded and reached the royal guards advancing in the hall between the sealed cells.  
  
The Asgardian prison was gray.  
  
Once before the chosen room the guards froze. They performed a brief greeting ritual and opened a door locked for centuries.  
  
Loki was there. In the corner near the entrance, bent like a wounded beast. Thor couldn’t avoid to run towards him.  
  
“Loki … _brother_. Loki, I’m here. I come back for you, to set you free,” he muttered holding onto the lost prince’s bony shoulders. He was blue and white at the same time. The living memory of an impossible alliance. “It’s me, Thor.”  
  
Loki was trembling, his eyes covered by his long black hair.  
  
“Loki, listen to me,” Thor cried out, painfully tightening his grip.  
  
The guards looked at each other awkwardly.  
  
“We need to silence the prisoner, my king,” a brave attendant exhaled.  
  
Thor gritted his teeth.  
  
“We have, sir. These are the rules.”  
  
“Then hurry,” he almost roared.  
  
The guards bent in front of the terrified prisoner, who tried to escape rubbing his back against the impenetrable wall. A mask was applied on his face and he was forced to his feet.  
  
“In the name of the law,” a guard chanted. “And by the wishes of Thor, king and protector of the city; Loki Laufeyson is a free man again and he will be able to cross the threshold of this prison.”  
  
Loki shuddered and cried silently.  
  
Thor pushed past the guards without care and took off his scarlet cape, a gift from Odin Allfather. He wrapped the robe around his brother’s shoulders and held him protectively.  
  
 

 

  
  
  
The official verdict was brief and intolerable.  
  
Loki had to bend down before the Council of Asgard and Thor, who sat on the throne, shining with the gold and the crystals of the kings. When the release was officially established, Loki was finally brought to the royal family’s rooms, to the steaming bath that awaited him. His body, lean and debilitated, seemed to suffer any physical contact.  
  
"Ah," he complained, once fully immersed in the water.  
  
Thor looked at the servants as if he expected from them an explanation for the sudden painful wail of his brother.  
  
“Maybe the water is too hot!” someone tried to say. The prince’s skin was floating from white to pale blue.  
  
“Then bring some ice,” Thor commanded looking at the Allmother Frigga, who was stoically holding back her tears.  
  
“Child …” she whispered, leaning over to reach Loki who was hiding his red eyes. “Child,” she repeated, kissing his forehead.  
  
Finally her son had returned.  
  
“We must immerse some ice into the water. Loki might be suffering from the heat of the bath.”  
  
“I have already given the order, mother. Rest now, your son is at home again.”  
  
“He’s at home ...” Frigga echoed, caressing Thor’s face before walking away.  
  
The king knelt before bathtub. He ran his uncertain fingers through Loki’s hair, his lips pressed against his cold, shivering temple.  
  
“Welcome back.”

 

 


	2. 1 - The Game of the Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on holiday for some time, so I won't be adding a new chapter very soon. I'm leaving one now. 
> 
> Like the other is a translation from the original Italian fiction. I hope I didn't do any huge mistake. Suggestions and corrections are welcome.

  
  
  
The Asgardian sky was awash with warm, rosy light which seemed to shine even in the darkest hours of the night. The sun never seemed to fade upon the island magically suspended into the cosmic tree of the world’s space, held in orbit by a beam of powerful and pristine nuclear energy.  
  
Loki realized that for the first time when he was a child, after a particularly unfortunate hunt. He lost himself in the woods with his brother and had spend long hours staring at the stars and at the magically golden clouds, shining like Thor’s hair. In the innocence of childhood he imagined the Asgardian sky like a caring brother always preventing total darkness for his younger sister, the earth.  
  
Later, when the last veil of naivety had been swept away and Loki had laid as an anonymous prisoner in the cells of the royal palace, even the everlasting light of the sun seemed more a curse than a protection of any kind.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
“What are you thinking, brother?”   
  
Loki turned away, tilting his face illuminated by the warmth of sunset.  
  
He was back in his rooms, in the royal palace of Asgard, surrounded by new books, cloths and precious robes. Near Thor, who came to visit him after a long day of work. The king was sitting at the chess table. He was drinking wine and carefully studying the position of his miniature army.  
  
“About astronomy,” Loki replied, after a second.  
  
Then he absently stroked his black robe and caressed his braided hair.  
  
“You look good,” Thor said, almost blushing. His eyes were never leaving his brother’s profile more than a few seconds. It was reassuring to see that, yes, Loki was there. He was a tangible presence, free at last. “You look _better_.”  
  
“Thank you,” the god of Mischief replied, sitting in front of him. His brother had just eaten his tower. “Interesting …”  
  
“Did my strategy improved, brother?” The king joked, stroking his blonde beard. “Perhaps ruling Asgard thought me how to be patient,” he added.  
  
Loki licked his lips, carefully touching his dark pieces.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Thor asked sounding more worried. Honest.  
  
Loki carefully thought the answer.  
  
“The nightmares are over,” he said. The moved his pieces against Thor’s and managed to make a breach into his defenses.   
  
“I understand,” the king murmured, swallowing up the tension like a bitter wine. “I understand.”  
  
His fingers searched for Loki’s.  
  
“Thank you for your hospitality and for the care you’re showing me,” he said coldly. “I will never be able to repay you.”  
  
“You know why I’m doing it,” the god of Thunder replied. “You’re part of the family, despite everything, and I want you by my side. _I want you by my side,_ Loki.”  
  
He didn’t reply. Just moved a bishop.  
  
“You look good in the golden of kings,” he said with honesty. It was almost painful. “It’s your color.”  
  
 _It always has been._  
  
“As a prince of Asgard,” Thor replied. “You could wear the gold that I have given to you. Instead you chose to refuse.”  
  
“I’m not a prince, Thor. I’m just a shadow of the lost past. Let me live in peace, away from the hatred of your people.”  
  
The king clenched his jaw.  
  
“I need you …” he whispered very softly. “I won’t withdraw my offer, especially now that you seem to do better. A powerful wizard like you is valuable to Asgard and everything will be like … it would be more like the past.”  
  
The god of Mischief’s lips curled into a sarcastic grimace.  
  
“I’ve become a king,” Thor continued. “In a way that I would have never imagined. The price was father’s life and you weren’t there beside me, watching my back and keeping my shield in battle. I’m alone, Loki. The power drove me away from the others.”  
  
“Power is loneliness,” he replied, moving his bishop. “And your power is great, Thor, even greater than Odin’s.”  
  
The king’s expression was filled with inexpressible sorrow.  
  
“Do you want to me to recall his last days?” he asked, his voice breaking.  
  
“It’s not necessary,” Loki said. “I heard everything from a servant and … _I saw it_. I’ve seen it happen in my dreams. The boat on the river, Frigga’s tears and you, holding a flaming torch …”  
  
There was a pause in the discussion as well as in the game.  
  
An unbearable silence, full of unspoken words. Thor had to shake off his cape. He felt almost smothered by the weight of memories and by Loki’s distance.  
  
“I should have had you by my side …”  
  
“You could have given me my freedom back,” Loki replied.  
  
“No, I couldn’t. I couldn’t ignore Asgard law and the memory of those killed Midgardians. You had to serve your time.”  
  
The god of Mischief took a deep breath.  
  
“A just king, Thor. Much more than Odin ever was …”  
  
 _“Our father,”_ Thor cried out, unable to contain his anger and sadness. “Our father, Loki! A just king as I am!”  
  
“ _Your_ father,” was the bitter reply through clenched teeth. “Your father. Don’t forget that we aren’t truly brothers,” Loki hissed horribly.  
  
The king leaned against the window and took a long look of the inner courtyards, his gaze lost in a glow of dusk, his golden armor gleaming.   
  
“You’re my brother, Loki. Blood of my blood in spite of everything, even if we are not born to the same father and the same mother but … I couldn’t have done otherwise,” he admitted. “I couldn’t deny justice to those victims whose mangled bodies lie under the rubble of New York skyscrapers, to those agents who died by your hand. The only thing that still dare to hope is to have you beside me, to forget the past and start over with a new life. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore. I'll protect you like the most precious gift of the gods.”  
  
Loki closed his eyes, fingers hanging over his black bishop, ready to checkmate against the white king.   
  
“I am not a gift,” he said. “I’m not even the brother you’ve known and loved. Too many things have happened and I spend too many nights in the solitude of the Asgardian prison. I am but a shadow, Thor, a shadow damaged by time and solitude. I have nothing left to offer.”  
  
Thor pounded his fist against the wall.  
  
“I cannot give up so easily,” he said settling returning to the game. Loki was on the verge of eliminating the king. “I won’t,” he added, hindering his brother’s moves.   
  
The god of Mischief frowned.   
  
He continued to attack the king without winning.   
  
Thor’s hand, big and strong, rough, shook his own.   
  
“I won’t surrender, Loki.”  



	3. 2 - The Hatred of the Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back but my laptop is kinda dead. Anyway I managed to translate this chapter. Hope it's fine!

   
   
The frightened voices of the generals and the guards were echoing in the shadowy hall. They were all following the wounded king while he was directed to the rooms of Loki the Liesmith.  
   
“My lord, we only ask for caution in your judgment …”  
   
“My health is none of your business!” Thor growled, holding his left arm covered with warm blood. A traitor’s arrow had missed his heart by a miracle, but the poison was beginning to cloud his view. “Let me go,” he cried out, exhausted.  
   
Sif shook her head, worried about the mood of his friend.  
   
“Go.” She said, putting herself between Thor and the vassals and speaking with kindness and determination. “The king needs a rest, but he's safe. Your worry is appreciated for the health of our king is the most important thing. Now, however, we can breathe in relief and let the healer do what it is –“  
   
“The healer is a traitor too,” a general muttered.  
   
Thor held his bloody skin until he felt pain.  
   
“I won’t tolerate another statement like that,” he warned. “Another insult to my brother and your rank and your powers will be lost memory in the name of Thor, son of Odin. Loki betrayed us, that’s true, but he also served his sentence. His debt is paid. Don’t talk like that about the prince _my brother_ anymore.”  
   
The procession of dignitaries fell silent. Another general stepped forward.  
   
“My king, the traitor who dared to strike you with his arrow is now confined in the cells of the royal prison. We will wait for you to declare the judgment. We are leaving you to the care of the healer,” he concluded bowing gracefully, his hand resting on his heart.  
   
Thor repeated the gesture, albeit with a noticeable effort. He waited to be alone with Sif before speaking again.  
   
“Thank you,” he said. “A king should never show his fatigue like that. I forgot my duties. I will ask forgiveness when I return.”  
   
“Do not be so hard on yourself, Thor,” she whispered, caressing his arm with sincere affection. “The pallor of your face reveals the power of the poison. You need to regain your strength and to expel the evil that burns in your blood.”  
   
“Thank you, my friend.”  
   
“Just one thing ...” Sif said, before walking away. “Are you sure he’s the right person?”  
   
“Yes.” Thor said, concealing the hesitation.

 

  
   
   
   
   
“What happened to you?” Loki asked, nervously tugging his brother’s shirt. “A poisoned arrow! And you don’t take countermeasures? Are you crazy, Thor?”  
   
The God of Thunder could not help but secretly smile, touched by the thought that, yes, for a moment his brother trembled with fear for him.  
   
“Close your eyes and try not to move,” the lost prince intimated, opening the palm of his hand that gave off sparks of white power. “It will only take a moment,” he explained before starting the purification of Thor’s blood.  
   
Thor bit back a hiss of pain, abandoning his head on Loki’s torso. His brother almost hissed.  
   
“Who did this?” he asked.  
   
Thor breathed slowly against his chest. “A traitor,” he forced himself to answer. Loki’s scent was invading his senses and his mind was clouded by magic.  
   
“Bad aim, effective poison.”  
   
“So they say. Are you finished?”  
   
“Hang on. Did you ever going to stop acting like an impatient child?”  
  
Thor grinned amused.  
   
“Never,” he replied, raising his dilated eyes. “I will always be the one who throws himself from the highest cliff of Asgard, against Father’s commands.”  
   
“... Just to impress your friends,” Loki said, gently touching the new skin beneath his cold fingertips. “I remember that.”  
  
“And you surely remember the consequences; a week in the library among the books I hated the most for punishment. Luckily, you were there by my side. You didn’t forsaken me for a moment ...” Thor sighed, his lips pressed against the glass of wine offered to him, his head dropped between the pillows of Loki’s bed. “That's enough,” he muttered, as he felt his thirst quench. The cup disappeared from his hands. “Can I stay?” he asked then. “I need to rest my eyes for a moment ...”  
   
“Said the King before falling asleep in the rooms of the healer. Rest, the poison stole your strength.”  
   
“Just for a moment!” the wounded god hastened to say.  
   
Loki watched him silently. He got up and went back to his books. “How did you think to judge this traitor?” he asked casually.  
   
“Guilty, of course.”  
   
“You would condemn him to prison or …”  
   
The lost prince looked at the surface of a dusty old volume. Thor was holding his breath.  
   
“To prison,” the king decided.  
   
“He could have killed you,” Loki replied. “The compound of his poison was lethal. A result of a long and meticulous search. You came across a man who carefully designed your defeat.”  
   
“Doesn’t matter. His plan failed.”  
   
“Because of pure luck.”  
   
“Tell me then,” Thor said, sitting up. “What do you propose to do?”  
   
Loki pondered the question.  
   
 _“I would send him to death_ ,” he whispered. And he already knew Thor’s next expression. He went along with his explanation. “The nature of his hatred …” he started, biting his lips. “He spent long hours preparing a deadly serum, which he attempted to inflict to you in the worst way, without a cover and risking his life. He chose that because the hatred he felt for you was much bigger and more important than his own safety. That kind of hatred never dies. It is food for the heart, reason for existence. It burns inside the veins like salt and it’s equal to the ardor felt by warriors before battle. It does not end. It won’t go away off. Never.”  
   
Thor stared at him speechless. Then he fell back against the pillows, his head heavy with tiredness.  
   
“You were sincere,” he only said, closing his eyes.  
   
Loki continued to play with the dusty volume even in his dreams.


	4. 3 - The Winter of the Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. I also wrote a crossover BtVS/Thor, A Tale of Two Lovers, for those who love both fandoms like me. You can find it in my dashboard.

 

 

The military campaigns started along with the winter. The Asgardian army struggled against those rebellious tribes who wanted to alter the cosmic balance and conquer the Earth that Thor loved so.

The king had an incredible series of victories, impressive even for a warrior of his stature, son of Odin and master of the sky. Beside him, in his army of heroes, there was Loki, healer and magician, wrapped in heavy black silky drapes.

The robes of foreigners.

 

  

“We will keep marching on the Eastern front. Set the camp in the valley at sunrise,” Thor ordered, powerful and luminous riding his white stallion.

The snow was caressing his face and his blond hair was billowing into the wind. His eyes were lost on the far away horizon, in a landscape that reminded him of Jotunheim. Far more bland but still insidious. 

Behind him Loki was pleasantly sighing at the cold.

“It is decided,” the king spoke, turning to look his generals. “I want three messengers, one for each main road. They will have to precede the rest of the troops, study the path and draw a map. If they meet the master of this kingdom, let them say these words to him; let them say that Thor Odinson is riding on his hills, inside the dry fields close to the snowy mountains and he will destroy everything if someone will dare to raise a finger against his soldiers. Let my warning be clear and go now!”

The messengers nodded and run away. Fandral joined the king.

“You do not trust this people ...” he murmured.

Thor’s hot breath fainted into the wind.

“I want to protect mine,” he answered thoughtfully. “And I want to realize Father’s dream: an everlasting peace. When even the last branch of Yggdrasil will be free from evil I will be able to rest.”

“Then be prepared to never rest, my friend,” Fandral replied with a smile. “Where there is peace a war will break out and where there is rest chaos will return soon. It’s a divine law.”

Thor looked into Loki’s eyes. He admired their bright green, a shade that he had seen only in certain poisons made in the kitchens of the Allfather.

“You’re telling me a great truth to which I prefer not to think right now, my friend. I’m heading to my tent. You’re on charge for the next hours,” he commanded going away.

Loki followed him like a silent shadow. He stopped a few steps away from the entrance of Thor’s quarters.

“So you do not want to follow me here?” the king joked.

Loki carefully thought about Thor’s veiled proposal and chose to follow him. They dismounted and entered in a huge tent covered with bear furs, magic metal and velvet. There was an artificial heat source at the center of the room.

“You can undress if you want,” he randomly said, walking up to the table. “I know how much you love the cold.”

Loki clenched his thin lips in disappointment.

“I do not love the cold,” he specified. “But my body bears it with ease. It’s in my blood, as you well know.”

Thor didn’t reply.  He poured red wine for himself and his brother. Then sat down on his the chair with his legs open.

“Thank you, Loki. Thanks to your help we reached this valley.”

“Don’t thank me. I am a subject and you are my king, I am obliged to service you.”

The wine suddenly tasted bitter. Thor let out a defeated sigh.

“They will want to fight ...” he said, changing the subject. “These people …”

“They will negotiate,” Loki corrected him. “At least they will want to after hearing what we’re going to propose,” he concluded, smiling enigmatically.

Thor studied his face framed by the long black hair. Loki’s slender figure was fragile and menacing at the same time.

 “I don’t know why you keep doing it,” he softly said.

Loki tilted his head.

“As I just said, you are my king.”

“I do not know why you continue to run away from me,” Thor specified. His tone was exhausted. “If you only knew how much I need you …”

“So it’s everything about this, right? What Thor needs! The king, the biggest and the brightest. Odin’s legitimate heir.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“But you thought it! Just like the others do. Your soldiers, your army … for them I’m still the traitor, the frostgiant saved for mercy!”

“Stop using these words,” Thor warned jumping up and firmly grabbing his brother’s face.

“Do not touch me!” Loki cried out.

“Stop that!” He replied, and caressed his brother’s cheekbones, his hair and his chin. “Don’t you understand what I feel at every rejection? You hurt me!”

“ _Good_ ,” the Liesmith replied with revengeful joy. “Maybe you could finally understand a hint of the suffering that I experienced. Caged and starved like a wild beast, because of Odin!”

_“Because of you, brother! Because of the nefarious actions you performed on the Earth!”_

Loki gritted his teeth and moved forward in an attempt to break free, but the Thor’s grip was firm and did not give him a chance.

“Don’t flee once again,” the god of Thunder cried out.

Loki’s eyes were blazing with hatred.

“Will you chain me this time?” he sarcastically asked, arching his back against the tent. His wrists held by Thor were shaking. “What will you do, huh? Are you going to sewn my lips because you’re so frightened to hear my voice?”

“I’m not afraid!”

“Are you? Of questioning Father’s commands? Of thinking that maybe you’re not so bright and righteous as you want to be?”

 Thor held Loki tighter.

“I’m not afraid,” he hoarsely growled and then he pressed his lips against Loki’s cheek. “I'm not afraid. I’m just ... I feel sadness because you’re so distant.”

Loki’s determination faltered as his legs pressed against his brother’s.

“The past is far away, Thor. We cannot longer go back to those times.”

“I refuse to believe it!”

 “We can’t.”

Thor slightly loosened his grip. He touched Loki’s face, his red lips. He buried his nose into the crook of Loki’s neck and savored the scent of his dark hair. He gasped, trembling. Loki felt something melting inside him and tried one last desperate defense.

 “Enough. Let me go!” he breathlessly exclaimed.

 Thor granted his request but remained close.

 “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, caressing Loki’s cheek. “You’re my brother.”

“No.” He replied. In tears. “ _I am not. I never have been_.”

“You are my brother!” Thor insisted kissing his lips like a desperate lover. “You’re my brother,” he stubbornly repeated.

Loki gave up. He bit Thor’s lips and dug his nails into his neck, pulling those ridiculously soft hair. He opened his mouth to meet Thor’s tongue and savored the wine licking it.

The king was holding his hips.

 _“You’re my brother …”_ he panted almost obscenely. “ _You’re my brother …”_ he continued to chant his deliberately sinful song.

Loki stifled a cry and clutched on Thor's back, slightly rising into the arms that were holding him.

“Nothing will ever divide us, Loki,” the king promised spreading his lover between the soft carpets and kissing him. “ _Not even the blood._ ” He said undressing.

For the first time since his releasing Loki joyfully smiled.

 

 

 


	5. 4 - The Promises of the Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, translation. I just hope it's fine. Please tell me if there are any mistakes.
> 
> Also the rating ... I don't know if this is a case of yellow or orange rating. I hope it's sexy all the same. :)

 

 

In an ancient time, when the rulers of the world erected pyramids able to touch the infinite vault of the sky and men fought and died for a glimmer of land near the sea, away from the cruel desert, Thor and Loki were children gods, sons of the king of Asgard, Odin.

They played, Thor and Loki, on the highest promontory of the kingdom, diving in the waves that crashed against the Bifrost, challenging each other to jump faster, braver and better than the other.

Their dive competitions were Loki’s favorite thing. He was able to overwhelm his brother, something that didn’t happen during physical fights.

On the highest promontory of Asgard, with the wind on their hair, the children gods sworn eternal fidelity to each other, shedding blood and pressing their lips together in a solemn and innocent gesture, before rushing to embrace mother Frigga, beautiful heavenly goddess.

_“I promise, as the most ancient gods, the ones who created our father and the father of our father ...”_

_I promise._

 

 

 

With his face pressed against the carpet and his cheeks burning in a way he thought was never possible, Loki was listening to those sacred oaths he changed centuries ago with the boy he believed was his brother.

Thor was grabbing his hips and moving faster inside him. Rougher.

“Thor, stop it …”

_To whisper promises, to tell me that you love me. That I’m yours._

 “Stop it,” Loki said, gasping for air, tearing the precious fabric of the carpet with his fingernails.

Thor groaned behind him and pressed his mouth against Loki’s shoulders. His hair was damp with sweat.

“Loki …”

“Stop saying these things … you don’t need to,” the Liesmith repeated in a sweeter tone. He experienced a rush of pleasure and closed his eyes, lost in orgasmic bliss.

He felt Thor coming and then departing from his body with a final kiss. He turned to look at his lover. Thor was laughing.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, threatening to cover his body with the furs.

Thor kicked them out of his reach, just to be sure.

“I laugh because I’m happy. Because my lover is the most beautiful man of the Nine Realms.”

Loki replied to the compliment with a vague embarrassed gesture and crossed his long legs.

Thor reached the table. He picked up grapes, cheese and a piece of bread and poured wine for himself and his brother.

“Are you not afraid that your soldiers can discover you here, in the arms of the liesmith?” Loki provoked, looking at Thor’s glorious naked body.

“No one will come. And anyway I’m not ashamed at all,” he replied, bending down to serve dinner to his brother. He kissed Loki’s lips to find out that they were still tasting of him. “You’re the most precious thing that I have,” he added.

Loki kissed him back, drank red wine and bit the cheese.

Thor laughed again.

“What’s now?”

“I’m looking at you,” the king explained. “You eat like a sparrow forgetting that you’re a god.”

“Eating slowly, without gobbling, makes me much more divine than you, Asgardian oaf.”

Thor gave him an happy smile and went back to pick more fruit.

“Do you really mean it, your ambitious plan?” Loki asked.

“What plan?”

“You know, the peace for the Nine Realms and similar nonsense …”

“It isn't a nonsense.”

Loki sighed. “You know what I mean, Thor. There will never be an everlasting peace between the worlds. Fandral was right. You won’t never rest if you aim for such impossible goal. And in the meantime I wonder how many will try to hurt you …”

“Are you afraid for me, Loki?”

The reply was a long and stubborn silence. Thor kneeled before Loki.

“Are you afraid?” he asked again, his voice softer and insecure.

Still silent, Loki caressed his face and his hair like he was the most fragile of all the creatures.

They kissed again and ended up back on the floor, between rugs, caught up in a wave of passion both desperate and tender.

“When I believed that you were my brother … when I thought that we were children from the same father … I vowed to stay forever by your side, Thor.”

“And you did. You’re here.”

 Loki smiled bitterly and pressed his forehead against his lover’s.

 “Remember what Odin used to say about marriages among the gods?” he asked.

 Thor nodded. “That marriage between gods are sacred and eternal and they go beyond all mortal constraints. That gods marry each other to fulfill their destiny, to create balance between opposites … to express their nature.”

“To express their nature …” Loki repeated looking away.

Thor shook his bony hips.

“ _Change_ ,” he only said.

 “What?”

 “Be a jotun. Let me see you.”

“No!”

“Please, trust me.”

Loki fought against himself before giving up to his determined brother. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His body – he could felt it – was changing. His pale skin was becoming blue.

“Oh,” Thor exhaled looking amazed.

“Thor, can I come back as …”

“Shush,” replied the king, concentrated in studying him.

Loki’s skin was thicker, more compact, but in a way still soft. His abdomen, face and arms were covered in dark lines. Thor could follow them with his fingertips in a path showed by his lover’s breath. Loki's thighs and chest were the colder parts, almost to cold to touch.

Thor walked the folds of Loki’s skin, sensually lingering upon the softest bits, carefully observing his lover’s reactions and sudden tremblings, memorizing every inch of his beloved body.

Loki was breathing faster when he opened his red eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he heard.

“What?”  
  
“You’re beautiful and I love you even like this. Don’t ever hide when you’re with me.”

The Silvertongue found impossible to make a salacious reply. The tension that Thor had so skillfully created wasn’t helping. So Loki just grabbed his brother by his hair and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 


	6. 5 - Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Here with another chapter. As always I hope I didn't make any (huge) mistakes in the translation process. Hope you like it.

 

That Thor was unable to conceal his feelings wasn’t exactly news for Loki. He learned that truth very early, as a child, when he saw his brother crying without shame into Odin’s arms or laughing covered in mud after a particularly successful ride. Tensing for a furtive kiss or screaming his rage at the sky.

Thor made no secrets of his heart. He held it in his hands to make it visible for everyone and let joys and sorrows hurt him and even change him.

Because of that, Loki wasn’t surprised by his brother’s enthusiasm, by the happiness he openly shown weeks after the return to Asgard. He wasn’t even surprised by the passion and Thor’s constant need of confirmation and tenderness.

Rationally he felt like he had to worry about the king’s reputation, but he just couldn’t force himself to mind the deleterious rumors.

The only thing that really worried him was Thor’s effect on him. The warmth he was constantly receiving was turning him, shaping him into something different and Loki feared that warmth and its consequences.

Loki – _he learned that_ – was made of ice.

 

 

 

 

The Liesmith dodget his robe entangled among thorns and advanced towards a bush of wild roses ready to be tamed.

After the military campaigns, Thor decided to gift him with three yards of land belonging to the royal family, for his scientific and magic experiments. Loki accepted the gift, happy to expand his knowledge through botany.  The garden was soon transformed into a haven of rare species.

“Your work is admirable,” A woman said with a sweet and deep voice. Painfully familiar to Loki. “You should devote more time to the vegetables though, if you want my opinion.”

 _Frigga_.

Loki smiled. “When I was a child I used to spend my afternoons in the field near the stables, where Thor was training, trying to create the world’s largest watermelon.”

“And did you remember what happened when it all ended up in an explosion?” she chuckled.

Loki turned to look at her. He bowed.

“Good morning, _queen mother_.” 

Frigga suffered his formal tone, but didn’t show it. Over the months she learned to accept Loki’s need to still consider himself an outsider inside the royal family.

“Why are you leaving your rooms so early?” he asked.

Frigga brought an hand over her stomach. “The morning air is good for me. It relieves my pain.”

“I could help with that … if you want me to, of course. I could help you.”

Frigga studied his son’s expression. Concerned, she might have said. “Do you grow medicinal herbs?”

Loki suddenly found himself fighting against an inconvenient emotion that made him lose lucidity and detachment.

“I’m a sorcerer,” he replied. “Medicinal herbs are one of the most fascinating things in nature. Plants in general are wondrous creatures, so silent and solitary but able to affect even the gods’ fate.”

“How they do such thing, Loki?”

The god of Mischief grinned. “Oh, you know,” he whispered caressing the flowers. “These roses are the best for perfumes and bath oils. The Asgardians prefer them for their slightly spicy fragrance. These are the bay leaves that Thor loves so much into his liqueur … and there are also the poisonous ones, of course.”

“Do you produce poison?”

Loki touched some blue buds. “With these you can produce a powerful serum, lethal for any Aesir. Ten drops are enough to induce the organs in a state of collapse. With fifteen you can get a poison able to give an immediate reaction …”

Frigga seemed almost scared by her son's expertise. 

Loki kept showing his flowers.

“I also have the Jotun’s variant … leaves of red ivy. They can kill a frostgiant in the most painful way.”

“Even their appearance is unpleasant.”

“These are just plants. They don’t hate.”

A silence fell between Frigga and Loki, full of doubts and untold things.

Then the queen spoke.

“I wanted to talk to you about him … about Thor.”  
  
“Did something happen?”

“Absolutely not. I just want to know if you’re hearing the gossip and if you are worried.”  
  
“No. Should I be?”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Frigga said smiling. “You love Thor, don’t you?”

“I wish I wouldn’t have to answer this question but … yes. Yes, I do love him.”

“That’s all that matters to me.”

Loki hesitantly stepped forward. The queen caressed him.

“In my heart I’ve always knew that nothing could separate you two. I wish I could explain that to Odin but … maybe he already knew it too and tested his sons. Your bond is strong, full of power,”

“ _Mother_ …”

“Don’t let the evil contaminate it.”

Frigga stood aside. Behind her there was Thor, waiting with a smile on his face and shining in gold and purple. Mother and son hugged each other in the most affectionate way. So beautiful, so similar.

Loki closed his eyes.

“Your roses are gorgeous,” Thor whispered against his tensed neck. Loki almost hissed in pain. “Do you want to show me the new arrivals?”

The Liesmith offered his arm.

 

 


	7. 6 - The Halls of the Gods

 

 

 

 _Valhöll_ was a magical, mysterious word.

 

Thor heard it for the first time when, as a child, he used to spend long hours watching the green lands beyond the horizon of the royal palace, cuddled into his father’s arms, so strong and able to hold together the universal balance and Thor’s weight. Thor, who laughed with his head turned to the sky.

 

“Valhöll,” the Allfather said, his voice low and deep. A king’s voice. “ _Valhalla_ ,” he repeated, ruffling his eldest son’s hair. Thor was staring at him with great attention as Odin explained. “The halls of the heroes fallen in battle, the warriors who did not fear death. Only those with the strength and the heart of a lion will be able to see the shields of gold and the sharp spears that shine for eternity. Do you have a lion heart, Thor?”

 

The god child solemnly nodded.

 

With his closed eyes, inside himself, he could almost see the mythical room pictured by Odin. He could touch it with his fingers.

 

 

 

 

 

“So, what are you proposing? Withdraw the troops, disgracing my name in the whole Nine Realms or continue a military action that could cost my soldiers’ lives?” Thor asked gritting his teeth, frustrated.

 

The Council, that he met in the throne room, wasn’t able to find a military solution to the crisis that was blocking the Asgardian army in the mountains of a distant planet.

 

“This Council is divided,” Sif said. “It is divided as of the consciousness of his king. You’re asking us to find a middle ground between our morality and the principles of those mortals that you love so much. The humans think that life is more precious than honor and prudence more important than courage.”

  
“You’re right,” Thor admitted after a long moment. “Our fathers would not raise such question.”

 

“Our fathers never had the power that you possess, my king.” Volstagg replied with a generous smile.

 

Thor felt moved by his friend’s loyalty.

 

“And here we find ourselves at the starting point,” Sif said. “An impossible choice between the new rules that we have learned from you, Thor, and the customs of our fathers. We cannot have at the same time the sweetness of the flower and the stillness of the stone.”

 

“Oh but we can ...” Loki whispered. He was standing at the edge of the room.

 

The lost prince studied the dignitaries’ faces and took a step forward, urged by Thor’s eloquent look.

 

“We could ... have the sweetness of the flower and the stillness of the stone, to put it in Sif’s words,” He repeated in suave tone, already enraptured by the idea that flashed into his mind.

 

Bending his lips into a smug grin, Loki managed to materialize the map of the planet. He waved his fingers just enough to enlighten the Asgardian camp.

 

“The soldiers are settled at the feet of the volcano, is that correct?” he asked, rolling his wrists to move the image. “The rebels’ village is located on the opposite side of the mountain and it’s impossible to reach it without passing through the crater. You just have to change the rules of the game. Let the rebels cross the mountains.”

 

Sif shook her head, amused.

 

“It will never happen! There is no Silvertongue able to change our enemies’ intentions.”

 

Loki’s lips tightened, in a gesture that concealed slight disappointment.

 

“I am not proposing a negotiation,” he clarified. “We should send a messenger to negotiate and that wouldn’t be prudent anyway. I’m proposing deception.”

 

The councilors changed an uncertain look. Only Thor continued to stare directly at his brother.

 

“Do you want to hear the _lie_ I’m proposing?” Loki asked, carefully choosing his words.

 

In his voice Thor could feel the willingness to provoke and the hidden pain that the lost prince always turned into a weapon.

 

“Go ahead,” he simply said, more severe than he wanted to be.

 

“With magic we can awaken the volcano.”

 

“An eruption?” Thor blurted out, surprised.

 

“Only the illusion of one,” Loki quickly replied. “A trick to scare our opponents and force them out of their hiding place! The earth will begin to shake, the smoke will fulfill the air and our the enemies will have no other choice but to take the already traveled path or go North towards the ice and without food or water. They certainly will choose to go back, probably reassured by the thought of our retreat. In the end we won’t move even a muscle.”

 

Thor fell into a thoughtful silence.

 

“A deception ...” Fandral murmured, voicing the king’s concern. “Are we going to use a trick like that in order to not take a risk?”

 

“We already have taken risks. Invading an hostile planet, sacrificing good soldiers to an impossible success ...”

 

“We can minimize the damage,” Loki suggested. “We can successfully finish the mission and avoid further losses.”

 

A subdued murmur arose in the throne room. Thor had to make a decision.

 

“So be it.” He solemnly announced. “We will follow Loki’s directions and it will be possible to resolve the matter before the new moon.”

 

The councilors nodded pressing their fists to their chests and leaving the king. Only Loki stayed next to Thor and followed him into his private rooms.

 

“They will hate you for this, you know?” he whispered, closing the door behind him.

 

The bedroom was near the gardens. From the window he could hear the chirping of the birds and the neighing of horses.

 

“For what?” Thor chuckled. “For allowing a deception or for keeping them in a meeting much more than Odin used to do?”

 

The armor suddenly appeared heavier on his shoulders, already tired from worries and responsibilities. Loki was right behind him, hands in his hands, struggling with laces and gold cloaks.

 

“For having chosen my advice,” he specified, freeing his brother from the burden of clothes. The muscles of warrior darted under his fingertips. The king stretched as he used to do before a workout session.

 

“Your mind is still plagued by the pain of knowing that you’re not Asgardian ... I do not know what to do to change it,” he admitted, falling on the chair with his legs apart.

 

His chest was signed by superficial scarring but his bare skin was soft and still perfect god. Thor’s strong arms betrayed a sensuous languor, the rest of a lion just few steps away from getting to the prey.

 

“Sit on me, brother,” Thor murmured licking his lips.

 

Loki jerked away.

 

“You don’t take me seriously,” he said, disappointed.

 

“I prefer not to satisfy your anger.”

 

“Anger?” Loki replied clenching his teeth. “I do not know me at all if you think I’m angry!”

 

“Loki, I don’t …”

 

“Damn it, _I wish you didn’t know me at all!”_

 

“Do not say that.” Thor commanded, bringing his brother closer to himself, tightening his grip on him. His hands lingered on Loki’s lean hips, on his lap. “My beloved. Beloved …”

 

The lost prince’s hands covered his back and started massaging his tense muscles. “You’re so tired, my king.”

 

“Don’t call me that.” Thor said, burying his face into his brother’s chest, kissing him until he was caught in a passionate embrace. Loki’s lips were soft and generous despite the coldness he chose to flaunt in the eyes of the others.

 

“In this room … it’s just you and me,” Thor whispered. “Do not call me king, not when I’m into your arms. I’m just Thor then, _and I’m yours_.”

 

Loki hesitated only a moment before biting his brother lover’s lips almost fiercely.

 

“I am yours, Loki.”


	8. 7 - The Memories of the Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I spotted some mistakes in the previous chapters and I'm planning to correct them soon. I hope it doesn't affect the reading too much. I should search for an English speaking beta. Meanwhile there's another chapter. Hope you like it and stop by for a comment. Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Warning for self-harm and attempted suicide.

 

 

During adolescence the physical differences between Thor and Loki heightened beyond all expectations.

 

The eldest son of Odin, destined to the dominion of the skies and the protection of universal peace, became stronger: his chest, remodeled by long workouts, had the firm consistence that befitted a warrior; his broader shoulders took a bronze shade, so similar to that of the statues that surrounded the king’s palace.

 

Thor had inherited his father’s strength and his mother’s beauty. His bushy eyebrows shaded two crystal clear eyes, capable of arousing sweet torments into the young girls’ hearts. His full lips stole honey kisses and lovers’ sighs.

 

On the contrary Loki assumed an almost lunar aura.

 

His figure was still slender, thinner in comparison to the Asgardian gods’ mighty physicality. The second son of Odin chose to devote his time to studies, in the library rather than in the arena heated by the sun.

 

The color of his skin was a spectral white, accentuated by the darkness of his hair and the iridescent blue of his eyes, sharp and curious like those of a cat.

 

Some argued that the younger prince’s beauty came from his celestial mother, others recognized in Loki, in his careful and intelligent expression, the same look of a young Odin consulting ancient magic books. Those who were much better informed preferred to restrain their comments.

 

It remained a fact known to every member of the royal court: Loki and Thor were opposites, such as ice and burning fire, and, _as ice and burning fire_ , they could never meet in the middle.

 

 

 

  
“Loki, show yourself.”

 

The Liesmith suppressed the shy smile that was enlightening his the face and turned to his lover in one graceful movement.

 

Thor laughed.

 

He was laying with his brother between layers of silk that covered his bed, staring at Loki who was playing with a crown of rubies that slipped from his ankles to his thighs.

 

“You should wear that properly. On your head.” Thor murmured, his voice hoarse with desire.

 

“Why?” Loki replied, shaking the red crown on his calf. “Don’t you think that I’m already properly wearing it?”

 

With a flick Thor grabbed his feet. He paused for a long moment, playing with the idea of opening Loki’s legs and finish their game. Instead he rested his chin on his lovers’ bony knees.

 

“I love you,” he said, and saw Loki hold his breath for a declaration that he still wasn’t ready to fully accept. “The color of these stones would be so good with your dark hair.”

 

“I’d look even less reassuring. More different.”

 

“I do not care. I love you for who you are.”

 

Loki opened his lips for a gentle kiss. He sighed.

 

Precious crown forgotten, the king and the lost prince enjoyed the closeness of their bodies, studying the differences between them in silence.

 

Thor's hands pressed against his brother’s belly.

 

“Is it true what they say ... Can you really bear a child?”

 

Loki frowned.

 

“I can control myself, you have nothing to worry about,” he said, making a vague gesture.

 

“I don’t worry like that. I just want to know if it’s possible, if the legends tell the truth. It would be a blessing and I’m not sure to be that worthy.”

 

“A _blessing_?” Loki asked rising his voice.

 

With a sudden movement he broke any physical contact between him and his lover. He stood up and began to dress and fix his long hair.

 

“What did you expect me to say?” Thor cried out, clenching his fists.

 

“I expected silence from you!”

 

A low rumble, like thunder, followed Loki’s declaration.

 

Thor had punched the wall.

 

“It is impossible to erase the hate that you feel? The madness that prison only amplified! Despite my best efforts … I can’t do it.”

 

“Oh, don’t force yourself too much, brother!” Loki exhaled, his face wet with tears.

 

Thor grabbed him and held him against his chest.

 

“Do not cry now,” he said, furious and sorry. The sight of Loki’s tears was still unbearable to him and he suspected that it was something that wasn’t going to change. Never. “Do not cry ...” he murmured with tenderness.

 

Loki sobbed. “Don’t you ever say such a thing! Do not say it, Thor!” he begged, wrapping in his slender fingers the kings’s hair. “Don’t you understand what a disgrace it would be if it really happened? Don’t you know what pain would that be for me … _to have to get rid of it.”_

 

“Get rid … why?”

 

“Because I’m the Jotun bastard!” Loki spat out. “I'm still Laufey’s unfortunate progeny! The Jotun dog that Odin brought in the house of gods, the Norns stopped him!”

 

“Do not say that ...”

 

“I’m but a foreigner,” Loki whispered, crying. “Do not mistake patience for love, my king. The Asgardians tolerate our relationship because you’re a good king, because we don’t flaunt the bond between us. But do not believe, not even for a moment, that they would accept the heir of a traitor.”

 

Thor pressed his lips against his brother’s cold forehead, accepting his last tears as if they were a precious gift. He buried his face into Loki’s slender shoulders.

 

There wasn’t a more sacred union that this. He knew that.

 

 

 

 

 

During the first days of captivity, Loki had fought the silence of the prison screaming and kicking. As an exalted man, he shouted blasphemies against Odin, universal traitor and shameful liar. Then the anger was replaced by despair and sadness. Then by guilt.

 

Bend down in the most shadowy spot of the cell, the god tried to commit suicide several times, using the little left magic that belonged to his lineage as Jotun and wasn’t controllable by the Allfather.

 

On the third try, the more effective and potentially lethal, Thor moved the guard with a growl and broke into the bare cell, ignoring every royal prohibition.

 

Desperate, he kneeled on the cold floor, holding in his arms his brother’s body, colder than usual, pressing his fingers against the perfectly vertical wound that tore his left wrist. Loki muttered unintelligible words, laughing uncontrollably.

 

 _Shut up_ , shouted the eldest son of Odin, _shut up_.

 

And Loki trembled into his arms.

 

He timidly kissed Thor and apologized – for the war, for the innocent victims who cursed him before dying, _for not having cut his wrist deeper, the right and then the left ..._

 

Thor cried like a child.

 

He whispered in Loki’s ear the childhood promises, the memories of a distant time.

 

He saved him, he knew that.

 

 

 


	9. 8 - The Triumph of the Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with the translation. Hope that there are just few mistakes.

 

 

 

Red velvet and buckskin were covering the side entrance to Thor’s tent as Loki walked in. Inside there was a ceremony held by the local population, finally freed from Thanos and his army of shadows thanks to the son of Odin.

 

Loki walked among the court dignitaries, studying the generals’ faces and the servants’s gestures, until he found a gray area in the sea of gold and damask that was surrounding Thor.

 

The king was sitting on the throne; his proud expression was often softened by brief smiles for the children and the women who knelt in front on him to pay their homage.

 

He was not wearing shoes – Loki could see that from his spot – and he was playing with a throne handle too carefully to get noticed.

 

His face was shining. His beard was trimmed and his soft hair looked like a wreath given by the sun himself. Only a tuft of white hair was falling on the king’s temple.

 

As soon as he saw his brother in the crowd, Thor grinned toasting towards him in silence. Loki followed the movement of his throat with erotic languor.

 

“My king,” said an ambassador kneeling before the throne with eyes full of sadness. “Our nation is grateful to you. The land of this planed can finally breath freely. You put an end to our captivity and no tribute will be ever able to repay such generosity.”

 

Thor stood up. “Friendship in the Nine Kingdoms is the greatest gift to ever repay every sacrifice,” he began. He stepped forward and took the ambassador’s hands. The man trembled with emotion, shaken by weight of years of torture. “Get up, my friend,” Thor said gently. “Get up,” he repeated in a louder tone. “Let our enemies know! That they didn’t kill you, that they didn’t defeated you. I understand your pain and the pain of your people, but I urge you to look at the future with hope. A new era of peace is beginning.”

 

A chorus of voices rose: _long life to Thor!_

 

Loki fixed his eyes on the image of the king in triumph.

 

 

 

 

Loki was eating grapes against a bronze column while all the servants were busy vanishing from his sight. The ceremony had been a real success for Thor who, once again, received recognition for his role as supreme leader.

 

“You overcame Odin,” Loki whispered, his red lips parted in a slight smile.

 

Thor sat on the throne and looked at him with a mixture of arrogance and amusement.

 

“Stop that!” the Mischief god intimated, turning to fill their cups.

 

Thor smiled. “The great peace is becoming a reality. Another battle and the universe will be finally free from the invaders.”

 

Loki stroked of his beloved king’s hand and closed his eyes sighing. “More bloodshed,” he whispered.

 

“For our enemies. And I didn’t think you worried about the army.”  


“I’m not, in fact.”

 

Thor felt compassion for the conquered people, for the fallen heroes and the war victims. That kind of empathy was still foreign to Loki. The trickster god could understand on a pure intellectual way his brother’s passion, the emotions that sometimes made him impulsive – although always fair and generous to his people – but he felt in a different way. He continued to be ice even in the arms of a god of fire and lighting.

 

“I care for you, brother,” Loki said. “I worry about the rumors …”  


“What rumors?”

 

Loki smiled. “The ones about your impossible dream, about all the military campaigns … all tricks of the son of Odin to avoid to grow up.”

 

 _“To avoid to grow up?”_ Thor exclaimed. “Since when the war is compared to a trick?”

 

“Since when you don’t fulfill your duties as king, your obligation to … _produce an heir_.”

 

Thor’s expression became indecipherable. Loki had to scrutinize it more carefully than the usual to understand his state of mind.

 

“You should marry a princess,” he let out when he was sure that his brother was really listening. “A sky goddess like Frigga. Or perhaps a blonde Valkyrie, who will give you children strong and brave as you.”

 

Thor remained silent. Loki hated when he was so capable of self-control, impenetrable to his provocations.

 

“A blonde Valkyrie ...” he repeated in a small voice.

 

Thor pressed him against the column, clutching his wrists and massaging them with rough movements. “Do you think that this is my plan?” he asked. “Ignore my duties and play the warrior until I can?”

 

“How can I know?”

 

“Answer me.”

 

Loki’s green eyes sparkled with excitement. “Maybe,” he exhaled.

 

Thor pressed his index finger against his lover’s lips. “How come you are so easily deceived, master of deceit? You should know that I already have in mind the perfect candidate for the formation of the new royal family.”

 

“Don’t joke …”

 

“I’m not joking at all, Loki.” Thor smiled and then laughed, dragging his brother on top of the carpet on the floor. “You know what I want,” he confessed happily, almost intimidated.

 

Loki gave him a glare.

 

He was still drinking the red ivy extract to avert the danger of conceiving a new life. However, as time was passing by, his opposition to Thor had softened. His brother managed to convey the thrill of his mad desire.

 

“Fool,” Loki muttered.

 

Thor leaned over to kiss him. “I cannot wait to admire you in a woman form. Soft hips, large breasts and full of …” Loki straddled him and the king laughed again. “Oh brother! I would love you even in a mare’s body!”

 

“Don’t count on it, Asgardian oaf!”

 

“Let me dream,” he replied brushing his dark hair. “Your white skin and my king’s eyes … all in a single being.”

 

Loki hit him again with very little conviction.

 

 

  


 

 

 

“Is that what you really want?”

 

A slight whisper in the dark.

 

Thor’s breath was hot against Loki’s temple and his chest was the perfect pillow.

 

“Yes,” the king replied.

  
  
Loki sighed again. “How much? Much more than war?”

 

“I’m the god of thunder,” Thor said, to justify his dangerous passions. “But I think that I could want it even more,” he added.

 

Loki looked up and kissed him slowly.

 

He remember his childhood in Asgard, his sense of loneliness, the obscure premonition of his difference that made him the more pensive among children. Thor never experienced that sense of alienation. Thor who was fair and truest heir of Asgard.

 

“Do you trust me, Loki?” the king asked in a different voice. Wiser.

 

“Yes,”

 

“Give me your permission then,” Thor said unfolding his lover’s long legs.

 

 

 


	10. 9 - The Battle of the Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Long time no see.
> 
> I was able to translate another chapter of the story, but I didn't contact a beta so ... the mistakes are all mine. Hope you like it anyway.

 

 

The Cronus stars were shining purple buttons on the top of the sky. Loki could see them in the darkness of night, in the shadows of the camp that seemed one huge red tent in a sea of sand and debris. He could hear them, above the velvet ceiling, in the arms of his king.

 

Thor wanted a child. Maybe because he was afraid of losing Loki. The trickster wasn’t sure.

 

Thor’s snoring was vibrating in the air that smelled of wine, exotic spices and sex. Beside the tent the guards were walking to keep themselves awake and resist the cold of the newly conquered planet, arid and barren as a grave.

 

Loki was questioning himself and, at any attempt to close his eyes, he pictured in his mind the son Thor used to describe: a child with the king’s eyes and Loki’s skin. And with that image came the memories of his hatred for the Asgardians, for Odin. Thor couldn’t understand his pain, the reasons of his hatred. Thor, who was the only one he’s ever loved.

 

Shuddering, Loki pulled back the sheets and got out of the bed.

 

Beyond the damask walls of the tent he could hear the muffled laughter of the guards and a small voice inside his mind told him that they were laughing because of him. Because of him and Thor.

 

With effort the god forced himself to suppress his thoughts.

 

He walked to the table and absently touched the swollen grapes and the crumbs of cheese broken by Thor. He licked his fingers and materialized a dark red bottle. “ _Red ivy_ ,” he reminded himself.

 

He turned for a moment and looked at the silhouette of the most powerful ruler of the Nine Realms, innocent and vulnerable as a child in his sleep. Then he opened the bottle and poured two drops of the liquid in his glass of wine. He drank.

 

The potion was specifically used to avert the danger of conceiving. As the wine warmed his stomach, Loki thought how easy it would be to shallow the entire content of the bottle and sink in a deep sleep without awakening. It would have been better for Thor, free from the burden of having to justify his brother’s presence inside the royal court.

 

“Would you like it, _Odin_?” Loki asked, laughing softly for his foolishness.

 

Thor grunted. Loki made the bottle disappear and get back into the bed.

 

“Loki …”

 

“I’m here, Thor. I got up to drink a little bit of wine,” he reassured. Thor’s hands mapped his body in the darkness and held him closely. Loki gave up any reason in a frenzied kiss, which catapulted him between the warm pillows.

 

“You do taste like wine,” Thor said, licking the inner curve of his lips.

 

Loki felt an unspeakable desire to be discovered. It was nothing but a moment. Then his intellectual clarity prevailed.

 

“I should go,” he said.

 

“No!” Thor protested. “It’s too soon. The dawn is not near and I don’t hear the warhorn.”

 

“If your men see this …”

 

“My men already know. I just want to hold you in my arms before taking another victory in the field,” he added with a confident smile.

 

Loki had never loved the arrogance in the knights tales. As a child he felt a contemptuous indifference for those heroes that thrilled his brother so much. Now, after thousands years, his heart tied to Thor’s, Loki felt fear for the uncertain future and a subtle pleasure: his king was about to win again.

 

“Thor,” he breathed offering his neck to his lover.

 

The battle of Ragnarok was about to seal the end of the war.

 

 

 

 

 

“Bring my horse! Tell Volstagg to wait for me at the edge of the hill,” Thor commanded to his soldiers, while the servants were dressing him.

 

“It will be a similar battle scheme to the others we recently used?” Loki asked.

  
  
“Yes, brother. You’ll follow the army on east and shield Sif and Fandral. Thanos’ army will be destroyed once and for all.”

 

Loki bowed his head, haunted by the fear of a defeat. Thor seemed to read his mind.

 

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, pressing his hand against the brother’s neck.

 

Then Sif entered the tent.

 

“My king,” she began, pressing her fist at the heart. “Everything is ready. We’re waiting for you signal.”

 

“It’s time.”

 

 

 

 

 

The battle was violent. The Asgardian army faced on one side Thanos’ troops, pushing them near the ice mountains where Loki unleashed his power to prevent anyone from escaping.

 

In the frontline Thor was forcing the enemies’ block, beating Thanos’ defense lines, coming dangerously close to his opponent. The echo of thunder and the sudden flash of lighting filled the air.

 

“I’m here, Thanos!” Thor screamed, the battlefield around him was mud and butchered men. “You’re mine!” he warned, waving his hammer.

 

Thanos was able to avoid the first powerful thrust.

 

“Loki won’t let you get away. It’s time for reckoning.”

 

His enemy grinned, amused. “The same Loki I fucked just here, in this planet, when he was my ally?”

 

“Hold your tongue!”

 

Mjolnir drew a circle in the air and his power targeted Thanos. Then the fight was dirtier, messier. Thor seemed to burn in the heat of battle.

 

“Do you hope to redeem your beloved brother’s sins brining the peace in the Nine Realms? Do you hope to erase his past?” Thanos’ blood mixed with Thor’s and while he was able to avoid Mjolnir Thor’s fist smashed his face. “You won’t ever!”

 

“Shut up!”

 

Thanos lost his balance and Thor finally secured his ground before delivering the fatal blow. The sky shone.

 

“The victory is ours!” Sif cried out. “Thor killed Thanos!”

 

Then the cry of pain and satisfaction from the Asgardian army. Loki and Volstagg started to capture the first fugitives.

 

_“Victory!”_

 

Loki left his position to join his brother.

 

Thor face was warm with joy and the storm was almost over. Loki smiled for a moment before yelling at his brother. A soldier stoop up and with a muddy blade he stabbed the king.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
